At 13:39:00, driving northeast on Hwy 37.
66 mph, elevation 2970 feet.

Overcast. Cold.
Occasional rain.

Spirits are good. But we can't figure
out how error creeps into our scores.

In our class, you bet.
But we'd like to win overall.




DAY 3: Inexplicable Territory Weirdness

This picture is for my bro Paul.
Hey Paul, look! It's me driving on the Alcan Highway!
Of course I have my eyes closed
 
Coach Stroud,
motorcycle guy:
"I have to go
80 mph sometimes
in order to get
back on time.
Do you?"

Motorcyclist Coach Stroud asks Larry how to zero a leg. Coach must have some idea - he's done it several times. He's first in his class, second in motorcycles (behind the improbably-named Tumu Rock).
It's 1:30 in the afternoon, and Larry is driving us up Highway 37, a bumpy twisty bit of work that jinks and dives through this hill country. We've passed a bear (little black one) and mountain goats, and a guy parked in the middle of the highway taking pictures of his wolf-hybrid dogs on the shoulder. One chased our car. Inexplicable Territory weirdness.(Later) My turn to drive. We heard earlier that statistically the guys most at risk on the Alcan Rally are press guys - the OPC factor (people driving Other People's Cars). I'm glad to see our young Forbes Magazine guys driving conservatively. "We don't want to become a statistic," one of them told me. Neither do I. Both hands on the wheel as we barrel on through the rain to Whitehorse. Having a great time with Steve and Eric, the guys now taking care of setting up the checkpoints and keeping score. It's amazing, the dedication of the many people who make the rally happen. I think they drive more than we do, and work longer... All the rallyists really appreciate the job they do.Midnight, and I'm sitting out in the lobby. With a clump of boots and the squeak of bike leathers, the last few motorcycle guys straggle in, exhausted and hungry, only to learn the kitchen's been closed for hours. End of a long, long. long day.
Go to www.challengedriving.com